


Gamora (You're a Fine Girl)

by gamoraesque (camatimi)



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, What's new, peter gets in a situation and gamora kicks ass, post vol. 2, with some very minor spoilers i suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 08:01:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camatimi/pseuds/gamoraesque
Summary: “Holy shit, you were like Batman. All you were missing was the cape. Have you ever considered adding a cape to your outfits?”“No, Peter, I haven’t.” She holds out her hand to help him up, and he takes it eagerly, allowing her to pull him to his feet. His hand is warm in hers, and it only seems to get warmer when they make eye contact and she sees the look of awe he’s wearing, eyes alight with excitement, paired with that contagious smile of his.“You’d look hot in a cape.” He says it so matter-of-factly, and it’s all she can do to drop his hand and turn away from his gaze in case she can’t control her sudden urge to smile at him.





	Gamora (You're a Fine Girl)

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit. Vol. 2, though, am I right? Holy shit. I feel alive.
> 
> I got the idea for this from a website that would randomly generate a first sentence for you to encourage freewriting. The sentence I was given went through many different incarnations throughout the writing and editing process but here's the final product. This will probably be edited a few times since I'm never fully satisfied, but it's good for now. Gotta get some more starmora goodness out there when I can.

The gun pressed against his temple is cold. That's why he flinches away when the bulky yellow-skinned gunman jams it harder on his skull, he tells himself. Under normal circumstances, he would have already talked his way out of this, but for once he wasn't feeling too confident in his smooth-talking abilities. Partly since he'd already tried and all it had done was get him a punch in the face, and partly because he knew he was in the wrong here.

No, the best course of action right now was to stay quiet and hope for the best. There wasn't much else to do anyways. Even if he did try to get away from the gunman, there were at least eight other guys here with him, each with their own gun and probably more than willing to shoot if it came to it. Escape definitely wasn't an option. There _weren't_ any options.

"We can't kill him," one of the other guys say. "If we kill him how will we get what he owes us?"

"He has friends on that ship of his," the yellow guy answers gruffly. "They probably have what we're looking for anyway."

"Oh come on," the words leave Peter's mouth before he can even stop them. But he just can't stay silent when he hears them bringing the other guardians into this mess. _His_ mess. "They have nothing to do with this. I'll get you the money, I s--"

"Shut up." The gun is shoved back against his head. "We're not interested in hearing what you have to say anymore, Star Lord." He just hates hearing the way his name slithers off this guy's tongue, but he does as he's told. He's man enough to admit when he's pressing his luck.

He doesn't hear the approaching footsteps, but neither do the other guys. Nobody even knows that there's another person in this alley with them, standing in the shadows, until they speak up.

  
"Peter, I didn't know you were having a party." He's too afraid to turn towards the newcomer, lest his new friend decide to pull the trigger, but he can't help the grin that creeps its way onto his face anyway. He hears the telltale sound of gently scraping metal, and he can practically imagine the sunlight glinting off the surface of that glorious sword he's certain is making the sound as it's unsheathed. "I feel bad that I wasn't invited."

Immediately after the words leave her lips, Gamora attacks and Quill's assailants have little time to even react before, one by one, they end up pinned to the ground or thrown into walls, all knocked unconscious. Shots fire from all directions, but none of them hit their intended target as she gracefully plows through each and every enemy between her and Peter. The guy who had been holding the gun to his head turns in Gamora's direction, and Peter takes the opportunity to pull out his own blaster and release three shots set to stun into his back and he crumples to the ground alongside his friends. Not thirty seconds after the fight broke out, it's over, with Gamora--the clear winner--standing over them, having not even broken a sweat.

Peter let's out a breathy laugh from his place on the ground. _Stars_ , he loves watching her fight. She's a goddess. A beautiful green-skinned goddess. Was there a Greek Goddess of War? Probably. He can't remember, but if there was, her name should have been Gamora.

“Holy shit, you were like Batman. All you were missing was the cape. Have you ever considered adding a cape to your outfits?”

“No, Peter, I haven’t.” Her voice is filled with exasperation as she resheathes her unused sword. She holds out her hand to help him up, and he takes it eagerly, allowing her to pull him to his feet. His hand is warm in hers, and it only seems to get warmer when they make eye contact and she sees the look of awe he’s wearing, eyes alight with excitement, paired with that contagious smile of his.

“You’d look hot in a cape.” He says it so matter-of-factly, and it’s all she can do to drop his hand and turn away from his gaze in case she can’t control her sudden urge to smile at him.

“So are you going to tell me why those gentlemen were holding a gun to your head?” She glances back in the direction of Peter’s attackers, each still unconscious where she left them.

The subject change makes his smile falter only a little. “Oh, you know,” he answers jokingly, “one of them thought I was flirting with his girlfriend.” Once the words have left his mouth and it’s already too late, he decides that maybe, just maybe, he would have been better off telling her the truth because that little joke was most definitely the wrong thing to say.

She doesn’t visibly react, but Peter has gotten to know her well enough to know that the way she takes half a step away from him right then means she didn’t find his joke as funny as he did.

Lips pursed, she brings her gaze back to his. “What’s the real reason?”

It turns out she knows him just as well.

He’s the one to end their eye contact this time, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other while he considers what to say next.

“It was just…” he shrugs, “a deal gone south. It wasn’t a big deal.” It wasn’t one hundred percent a lie, so it's okay, right? He hates lying to her.

“Not a big deal?!” Her tone escalates until she’s practically yelling by the end of the sentence, and she throws her hands up, obviously more than a little upset with him. “Not a big deal.” It’s quieter this time, and she ends with a scoff as her hands drop to her sides.

“I’ve gotten out of worse situations, Gam,” he says, flashing her a reassuring smile in an attempt to de-escalate the situation, but all it took was one look at her to see that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of it.

“Those times were different, Peter,” she tells him slowly. “And you know it.” She didn’t need to say anything more for him to know she was talking out of worry for his newfound mortality. Of course, he hadn't always known about it, but even still. Every time he'd gotten 'lucky' in the past was probably not luck and it was something to consider. But he sees now that he's not the only one who's thought about that and worried.

Cautiously, he steps towards her, closing the distance that his earlier comment caused. His hands come up to gently rest on her arms, and she stays still, so he takes that as a good sign and pulls her close. “Sorry,” he murmurs as her arms come up to wrap around him. “It really wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, I swear. But thank you,” he pulls away to look her in the eye, “for helping me out.”

She holds his gaze for a long while before she lets out a sigh and pulls herself out of his embrace. “While I appreciate the practice this gave me, can you at least try not to get yourself killed when I’m not around?”

That contagious smile creeps back onto his face again and there’s a twinkle in his eye when he replies, “I could say yes, but would you believe me?”

This time she’s unable to keep herself from answering his smile with one of her own. “I guess not.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a long freaking time, so go easy on me. I'm a little rusty. I might continue this, but first I gotta figure out why he owes these guys money. I didn't think that far ahead. It could be interesting, though.
> 
> By the way, the original sentence I was given was, 'Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind, but, with a gun against his head'. Just in case you were curious.


End file.
